By Mark A. Leon

I just saw a good man die
A victim of a warm against love
Compassionate soul in a desensitized world
His blood spilled on a dying planet
One last effort to feed the roots of humanity

A witness to genocide
A product of the machine
Villages pillaged; families destroyed; lives forever changed

He honored the code, but lived with the guilt
Every minute, every hour, every day

Trained to kill; raised to heal
Yearning for a home

Blocking the only cure to his disease with an unbreakable wall surrounding his soul

Alone, he searched for answers

I saw a good man die
Self-inflicted by his own pain

Counting the seconds as sand crystals feel down the narrow hole of the hourglass
Silently pleading for a community to call his own

Waiting for that call that would come too late

Cries internalized
A soldier never shares
Freedom at any cost; never hesitate
Guarded he remained

His heart, a fragile rose
Encased in a wall of glass

Afraid to live, he chose death
A final act of valor
Leaving behind so many unanswered prayers
With one sunset, this spring became a winter

Cold and dark
The fire extinguished
It is snowing now

Each flake, a story of remembrance
Each picture, a glimmer of a smile

With one final toast, we say goodbye and remember forever
The curtain falls on a good man